Vows of Revenge

“We’re prepared to reinstate her,” the aide rushed to say.

“I’m not going to tell her you said that. And if you even think about making her life difficult because of this, you’re going to find out exactly how vindictive I can be. Am I making myself clear?”

After a beat of silence, the aide said tightly, “Let me pass this over to Trenton.”

“Don’t bother.” Roman ended with a cheerful yet filthy suggestion for the bunch of them and stabbed a button to end the call.

Melodie tucked her chin, admonishing him, “I heard them offer me my job back.”

“And you didn’t speak up.”

She sighed, knees coming up so she could hug them, then set her chin on them. “Do you really want to help me with Mom? Like, would it help you?”

He dropped his gaze from the earnest softness in hers. He was still pulsing with the sort of discontent that came from smashing your own thumb with a hammer, sorry that he’d told her something so personal. It was the kind of intimate detail he never, ever gave up about himself. Especially if it was going to make someone look at him like that.

So did he expect that going through a memorial of some kind with her mother would help him? No. It would stir up this turmoil inside him that he’d spent years sublimating. Was he willing to put himself through it to keep Melodie with him?

Bizarrely, the answer was yes.

“Let me make that call,” he said.

CHAPTER NINE

THREE DAYS LATER Roman flew Melodie by private jet to Paris. They discovered that rivers and streams were off-limits for scattering ashes, but found a special remembrance garden where they were able to spend a reflective hour settling Patience into the state of peace that had eluded her in her living years.

“Thank you,” Melodie said, reaching across the back of the limo to take Roman’s hand as they left the gated cemetery. She was hollowed out, eyelids stinging and swollen from crying, throat still scratchy, but she felt at ease for the first time in years. Maybe since the first time she had fully realized what sort of tortured existence her mother had led. “I couldn’t rest until I’d given her that. Nothing can hurt her now. This means a lot to me. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His distant, faintly wooden response might have struck her as disinterested if she hadn’t seen him struggle several times during the small ceremony she’d arranged. She remembered him calling himself emotionally inaccessible, and he certainly kept his cards close to his chest, but he wasn’t indifferent. As he’d cradled her against him when they’d been left alone to say their goodbyes, she suspected he’d offered a much-delayed farewell to his own mother.

Not that she would intrude to ask.

Instead, she twisted her head on the seat to look at him. “When you told me you try to meet the needs of your companions, did you ever see yourself doing something like this?”

That caught him by surprise, making him laugh. “No,” he pronounced drily, faint grin lingering.

“Well, I appreciate your making an exception,” she teased, leaning across to kiss his cheek.

He cupped the back of her head, keeping her close for a few short, sweet kisses on her lips.

“Where are we going now?” she drew back to ask. They’d flown overnight, arriving about six in the morning Virginia time, and had come straight to the cemetery for a midday ceremony. She wasn’t sure if she was tired or hungry or what.

“What do you want to do?” he asked easily.

“I’m not sure.” The sky had been low when they’d landed, but was brightening by the minute, and she kept seeing trees in blossom against rain-washed stone, tulips and cafés and smiling couples. “Could we walk around the city a bit?”

“Of course.” He had a word with the driver and they pulled over a moment later.

For the next two hours they wandered aimlessly past flower stalls and into shops for pastries. When she paused to examine the price tag on a newsboy cap in olive green with a cute floral band wrapped into a smart little buckle, he plopped it on her head and held out his credit card to the proprietress.

“I was only thinking about it,” she said, adjusting it in the mirror after the tag had been removed.

“It suits you.”

“Well, thank you,” she said cautiously. Accepting a gift from him was a slippery slope. She was already indebted to him for the flight, and he hadn’t been satisfied with making this a weekend trip, stating he had business to take care of later in the week.

Since they were staying at his apartment and he wasn’t footing the bill on a hotel, she had acquiesced. She fully intended to cook for him while they were here, but when she mentioned picking up a few groceries, he said, “I made reservations. For an early sitting since I knew we’d be tired. I’ve been steering us toward the club. It’s only another block over. We should change, though. I was going to leave you next door and walk across to the men’s shop.”